


Emperor Seien AU (import from ff.net)

by moor



Category: Saiunkoku Monogatari
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, PWP, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:56:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: Seiran x Shuurei. Emperor Seien AU. One-shot.





	Emperor Seien AU (import from ff.net)

Title:  **Emperor Seien AU**  
Category: Anime/Manga » Saiunkoku Monogatari  
Author: moor  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Drama/Romance  
Published: 08-16-15, Updated: 08-16-15  
Chapters: 1, Words: 1,656

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**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

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**AN: I do not own "Saiunkoku Monogatari". The shrine to Kouchou in my closet is merely a by-product. XD Please note that with this being an AU (Seien/Seiran as Emperor), everyone will be a bit OOC (to suit my purposes). Cheers! And happy belated birthday, nikolita!**

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Shuurei's shoulders tightened slightly with what little energy she had left as she saw him come back down the hallway from the room off the end, not too far from her own.

Seiran's attention was focused inwards, however, as he came to stand in her doorway.

With a sigh, her dark hair sweeping loosely against her back, she caught his attention and walked into her room. He followed, his violet eyes unfocused, his brow furrowed deep in thought.

While she'd known to expect something like this, her heart had almost physically hurt at their first interactions in so long, that night.

She hadn't expected him to completely abandon her, but after so many years of him being absent from her life, of him taking on his true calling and responsibilities, she'd… not lost hope, never that… but… had accepted that duty came before… more personal intentions. She still held her position in government, but rarely did they see each other now—unless it was across a vast palace hall, as 'Seien' in his regal regalia, she in her official robes—, let alone converse.

And now, here he was, before her once again.

"You won't be missed tonight?" she asked him finally, noting he was still stewing in his own introspective silence. Normally, had it been just the two of them, as it was years ago, she would have left him be with a reassuring embrace, a kiss to his temple, perhaps, if he'd been seated at the kitchen table, and likely a cup of tea to share between them until he came forward with whatever it was that plagued his thoughts.

But times had changed.

"Ryuuki is handling things within the palace. He has turned into a valuable advisor," the silver-haired man remarked a bit absently.

The smile that crept quietly across her lips was sincere and warm. "I knew he would."

"He misses you."

"I miss him, too."

He didn't reply, and Shuurei wanted to sigh at his moodiness. So long apart, and this was how he wanted to spend his time?

But then he surprised her.

"They're… bigger."

Of course they were, it had been several years since he'd last seen them…

"They're very strong, and healthy. They ask after you. I remind them you love them very much."

"They were afraid of me tonight, when I first arrived."

Ahhhh, so that was what was bothering him, she realized, and tugged on his hand, pulling him down to sit beside her on her kang-bed. It sank slightly under their combined weight, and she leaned back against the headboard, staring at the canopy above her for a second, simply enjoying his company, his closeness, again.

"You've been away so long they forgot what you looked like. But they knew who you were, the moment you held them. When you sat down to play with them on the rug, did they not curl right up to you? Cuddle with you? Wrestle with you there on the floor?" Her lips were smiling, but the light in her eyes was dim, sad. "That's all they want of you, Seiran. Your sons… they don't know what an emperor is; what the palace looks like or means; what it means to be an official, a leader, a king. They only want their father."

Finally, her words seemed to reach him and he looked up at her.

"I don't know how to be," he admitted lowly.

This time she grinned, the melancholy lifting slightly. "You already are, and they know you are. That's what's most important, Seiran. Not gifts, but time, guidance, love."

"I can't give them that, either."

"Not if you don't try," she scoffed, and gave him a light kick to his thigh. "At least Ensei tries."

Surprised out of his self-imposed depression, he stared at her with wide eyes.

"Ensei may not be their biological father, but Seiran, every night he can be, he is here to talk with them, play with them, take them out to work in the garden together—even if all they can do is gather sticks. And then fight each other with them, trying to beat the other into calling, 'uncle'," she finished dryly, shaking her head.

"So why bother having me here?" his eyes narrowed at her.

The man was brilliant, but blind, she decided at that moment, and glared at him in the eye. She was probably one of the few who would ever get away with it with her extremities intact.

She turned to him, then, and grabbed the front of his tunic in her hands. He'd worn simple clothes to come visit, but the quality of them under her fingers was a dead giveaway to his position.

Not that any sense of propriety would have stopped her.

"If you don't want to be here, why did you come?" she asked, her temper rising at his pig-headedness.

"This isn't—."

"If you don't feel wanted here, why do you think of us, mourn us while we live? I know you miss us, Seiran, don't lie to me."

She climbed to her knees, her nails digging through the fabric of his clothes, yanking him closer to her, to glare at him eye-to-eye as she straddled his lap.

"If you don't love us, then just go home, Seiran. The palace is always waiting. Walk out and don't come back. But don't ever insinuate that we aren't worth the effort. I loved you, still love you, and always will love you, but I will not put up with you ever implying our children aren't worthy of your acknowledgement."

"You know what would happen to them if I were to-."

"Not that kind of acknowledgement!" she burst out, finally shaking him, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with frustration and anger. "I mean, being a father to them, here, in our own home!"

"You don't need me here!" he finally snapped, his hands coming up to grab her wrists tightly. His jaw was tense, his eyes fierce and focused on hers. His hands clenched tighter, and she felt pain, very real, where he held her. But he did not let her go. "You don't need me anymore. You have your career, you have your family, you have Ensei to take care of—."

"I want you here!"

His rant halted, and his harsh breathing was loud in the room.

"… I… I miss you. I miss you here."

The soldier, the emperor, the father, the man, swallowed, his mouth closing at her confession.

"I miss you, Seiran."

"You do."

"I do," she repeated, her fingers loosening from his shirt to lie flat against his sculpted chest. She smiled to herself, realizing he obviously hadn't given up his swordsmanship practice.

"I miss you so very much. There are some things Ensei can't replace, and those things are what make you you," her voice was soft, her head bowed forward to lean over him, her long hair falling around his shoulders as he stared up at her.

"I won't keep you here if you don't want to be, won't make you someone you don't want to be, won't tell you to do something you don't want to do. But I love you, and I am doing everything I can to do right by you for our children. All I want…"

There was a pause as his hands loosened from her wrists to take her hands, bring them to his mouth.

"What do you want, Ojou-sama?" he whispered against her fingers.

"I want you, Seiran. I want you, the man. Not the emperor, not our family servant… you."

"I'm here."

"I want more of you," she leaned forward, her lips hovering over his, and she watched his eyes, his reaction.

Arching slowly towards him, she slid her hands down from his mouth to knot behind his neck.

"More."

He sat up and pulled her closer, his hands taking her hips and pulling them to his.

"More."

His fingers ran up her back, down her sides, and splayed across her stomach; one slipped through the breach of her robe and she shivered at his touch.

"More," she gasped, feeling his hands roving over her, loosening ties, folding her robe gently off her shoulders while his head moved forward to the curve of her throat, kissing hot, wet trails down the path he opened.

"More," she whispered, and he growled as he rolled his hips into hers, pulling her down on top of him as he slid away from the headboard, down into her covers, her hands fisting in his hair.

"More…"

Their clothes were discarded around them, they soon moved together eagerly, enthusiastically, emotionally as they laid themselves bare to the other.

Each push, each motion, each moan of appreciation spurred them on, stoked their fire. It had been too long, too dark, without the other, and they made the most of every movement, their rhythm familiar and intense.

Eventually, they shuddered together for the last time, their breaths still mixing as they panted and gasped and tried to find a way to calm their tremors and heart rates.

"It's never like this," he said softly, his fingers running softly through her hair, afterwards.

"No," she agreed.

"I will come spend more time with them," he promised, his eyes meeting her hooded ones a moment. She nodded, and smiled.

"Thank you."

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**AN: The End.**


End file.
